


Chunky Fudge

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blog post, COOKING BLOG, M/M, ShiroxKeith as a sidepairing, inspired by a tumblr post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: Hunk’s new post in his cooking blog, detailing some details of his life, work and Pidge’s hot brother.





	1. Chapter 1

So hey guys. Sorry I've kept radio silence, it's been a few busy kind of days. And by busy I mean, I've been lowkey dying. Without the lowkey, sometimes. 

Soooo. I know I don't talk about it much here because this is a cooking blog and I'm not so sure how many of you would be interested in elastic and plastic strain and how to compensate for them when choosing the proper material to build something, instead of on how to make the perfect souffle and not die trying, but what brings the bread to my table (as well as the ham and swiss-non-fake-cheese please and thank you) is actually engineering while cooking is my, you know, my way to relax. And yes, this does mean that I stress bake a lot and it's one of the reasons my friends love me.

Anyway, I mention this because I'm in a really cool engineering program that I kind of triple double pinky swore (and, um, signed like, a bazillion contracts) not to talk about it, so I'm not really talking about it or what goes in it. What I'm talking about is that one of my very best friends and probably the smartest person I have ever known is also part of this program. Guys, when I mention she's smart, I don't think there are actual levels to express just how smart she is. Like, Stephen Hawkins who?-- give her two, maybe three years, and she's going to probably change the world. Or achieve world-domination, it's an either/or situation and I'm friends with her, so, I'm kinda cool anyway.

Now, this friend, who I'm going to call P, we are often paired up to work on the same project together, so of course we end up talking about a lot of things like cute dog videos we watched on youtube, music, favorite places to go on a vacation and, of course, family.

So about a week ago while we were talking a break, P mentioned how her dork of a brother was finally coming home and how I should go to the welcoming dinner her parents were throwing him. I would have said no, but she mentioned how it wasn't a just family dinner but a welcoming party in general, and hey, you all guys know that I believe that food is one of the best ways to bring people together, so I said sure, and I asked her how kosher she and her family were and she said no pork and that her dad is allergic to shellfish so probably best to avoid so I could plan on what to bring to the party besides the [vegan eclairs](https://www.gretchensveganbakery.com/vegan-eclairs/) that P loves.

See, P had mentioned her brother before and constantly enough that I sort of felt like I knew him? Like she'd come to work and she'd groan and start 'Hunk, you wouldn't BELIEVE what my brother said in his call last night' and I'd go sympathetic friend on 'Girl, tell me, I'm all ears' and I had seen pictures of him that P had shown me, except - and this is me realizing how dumb that was of me - they were all school aged and he looked a lot like her so I had all these anecdotes of a dork, slightly-older version of my friend.  
Except and this is what I forgot. _P is incredibly biased_. We all are, of course, at some degree, but P is CRAZY BIASED, especially about her favorite people. But Hunk, I hear you say, how couldn't you have realized that? Well! In my defense, she kept saying how much of a dork he is and his ridiculous hair and how she couldn't forgive him because instead of doing something cool like we do (and what we do is SUPER COOL), he decided to go and be an anthropologist and researcher.

(P, bless her evil genius little heart, has a thing against Humanities. It's a work in progress).

So anyway, there I go to the party with my perfectly done [slow roasted hoisin orange glazed chicken](https://www.joyofkosher.com/recipes/slow-roasted-hoisin-orange-glazed-chicken/) because yes, I am an overachiever, and P goes to introduce me to her brother.

P's brother, M?

 _She never mentioned he was hot_. Which of course would have been creepy if she did, _and yes_ I am more of a what's-inside-matters person but that doesn't mean that I don't have eyes to appreciate fine and oh man he was So. Fine _and I wasn't prepared_. Arms. Shoulders. _Dimples when he smiles_. And then the inside was super fine too! I wasn't prepared by how smart he was! And charming! And smart! Did I mention smart? Like, probably not smarter than P, but smart enough to make me swoon HARD and--

Look, I have no idea what we talked about. I know P said we worked together so I hope I was able to remember how to words, because I have this distinct notion that I probably babbled more than talk.

Anyway guys, since you probably aren't here either for the tragic tales of me making an ass in front of a super hot, super smart, super cool 'Almost An Archaeologist When I Finally Present My Thesis But I've Been Busy Traveling The World You Know' person, here's the recipe for my Orange Glazed Chicken. Let me know how it goes! I'll be here, screaming into the void out of embarrassment, never going out again.

Kidding, I'll probably be walking Yellow. While I scream into the void out of embarrassment. Oh man.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, guys, great news! And scary news! And I-think-I'm-hiperventilating-oh-my-god-news!

Let's start with the great news!

Do you all remember my friends S and K, my super cool astronaut friends whose wedding I pretty much catered two years ago because if I had let them to their own, they WOULD have had Kraft Mac N Cheese and I would have had to disown them?

Anyway, my horror at some of the things people I call friends will eat aside-- guess what! S and K are officially parents now! They finished the adoption process of a baby girl just last week! She is the most beautiful little baby girl in the WORLD and ranks as third cutest baby in existence, almost tied to my two nephews when they were born. Welcome to the family, Little Red!

The new parents are ecstatic, of course: I don't think I've ever seen them smile so much.

... when they're not dead on their feet. Newborns? Are HARD. They're both taking a sabbatical from work so they can be with their kid, and I've been spending the last few days after work visiting them and helping them learn how to cook because no almost-niece of mine will grow up eating box-made-nothing, mark my words. Yes, sure, she's going to be eating mostly formula for a few months, but that will be barely enough to turn K into something decent in the kitchen. 

(S is the greatest, most amazing, trustworthy, capable, charismatic, smart and able guy ever and I love him to pieces and he is Not Allowed Into The Kitchen. He can use the microwave to reheat his non-orange-mac-and-cheese, and maybe us the stove to warm some of Little Red's formula. MAYBE)

So last Friday I was teaching K how to make my superb Parmesan-and-Eggplant-Lasagne while they got visitors.

A visitor.

Remember how three weeks ago I pretty much made an ass out of myself in front of P's super cool, super hot, super smart, super amazing older brother M?

Did I fail to mention that M and S are as good friends as L and me?

SO THE SCARY NEWS. M CAME TO MEET HIS FUTURE GODDAUGHTER and S and K live in one of those super cool, super modern, minimalistic-style decorated houses with lots of crystal walls and separations that DO NOT allow a big guy like me to easily jump behind and hide. 

Guys. It's so unfair. It's not that he's good looking and smart and hot and he has dimples when he smiles and he likes DnD and he knows about engineering so he gets my dumb jokes.

 _He's good with babies too_. While K and I finished making dinner to pop it in the oven, he took over Shiro into feeding the baby all the while they kept talking about the work M is doing in the museum he's currently at, masterfully changing topics to talk about the latest ep of Monsters and Mana and when they laughed too hard and woke the baby, he started singing to her. _In Polynesian_. Because of course the guy has to be a polyglot to put a nail in my coffin!

So I go out and-- okay, see, in my mind, I just stared like the lovestruck idiot I am, but I must have worded somehow because he grinned at me and shrugged and mentioned how he had spent two years in Rapa Nui, no big deal. I mean, I probably died right there and this is coming from out of the grave. Either that or I muttered something like "Oh, cool" and went back to the kitchen. I think that me dying is what happened, but you be the judge.

While the lasagne was cooking and M had the baby asleep, the dads were falling on their faces with lack of sleep so both M and I, being the good friends we are, told them to take a nap, we'd watch kiddo for them and tell them when the food was ready.

Hyperventilating-news-ahead.

WORDS? HAPPENED? I THINK? I mean I can't be really certain because when I think too hard on the forty five minutes we were basically alone with sleeping newborn baby as the only witness, there's like white noise in my head. BUT I'M GOING TO PRESUME that talking happened. M said that at the moment he's staying because of the work he's doing at the museum and so that he can finally get his degree and get P to stop rubbing it in his face the Ph.D that she's already on her way of achieving, as well as missing friends and family, and I mentioned getting that because my family is all the way over Oahu and I don't get to see them so much, and then we talked about the _weather_ but in that _nice_ way of complaining about it with someone who gets it and he laughed at my jokes and I giggled like a schoolgirl at his and. 

Guys?

I'm pretty certain that I asked him out to dinner? And he said yes, I think, because P has been texting me non stop with nothing but her laughing.

Forget hiperventilating, I'm having a heart attack.

So here, before I die, I'll give you my recipe of Parmesan-Eggplant-Lasagne. When my loved ones publish a book of my recipes after my tragic demise because I'm probably??? most likely?? going out??? with a cute guy???, it's an AMAZING recipe to be the last one the ever so talented Hunk ever wrote.


End file.
